


M*A*S*H 6828

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the front lines of the Korean War there's a Mobil Army Surgical Hospital that's filled with a very interesting cast of characters.  Colonel Gold allows for a certain latitude in his camp, understanding the stress that they're under dealing not just with the war, but the constant arrivals of the wounded and dying.  </p><p>Basically, a M*A*S*H AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back Home

Nurse Mills was waiting for him. Of course she was. A day wasn’t over unless she’d come to lodge a complaint at least once, and as he’d been gone for three days in Seoul she had some catching up to do.

“Welcome back, Sir. If I can have a minutes to…”

“I haven’t even gotten out of the jeep, Mills. Whatever Nolan and Humbert have done now can wait five minutes.” He beckoned to Corporal Hatter, half hiding behind the mess tent. ”Take it to the motor pool, and no joyriding this time. It will not take more than five minutes, or next time you crawl around here like a cat I’ll have your rations given to you as tinned pet food.”

“Your jeep to the motor pool you say? I’ll have it there and come back before you know I’m away.” With a jaunty grin the mad man, or perhaps the sanest in the camp, drove off. Gold strode to his office, annoyed but not surprised when Mills insisted on following.

“Henry. Didn’t burn the place down while I was gone, I see.” It was hard not to want to ruffle to boy’s hair sometimes. He was barely eighteen and had no place in the war. Actually, Gold suspected that he was less than eighteen, and had no place anywhere.

“No, sir. Only fire was in the garbage pit. Man did it stink.” His grin was, fortunately, just what a boy's grin should be. Gold feared the day when that smile no longer reached the lad's eyes.

“The garbage pit?” he asked with amusement.

“There might have been a sort of contest involving who could use a magnifying glass and a sun beam most effectively, sir.”

"Sir." Mills, who smiled briefly at the boy that was her one known weakness, was all business again.

"In my office, Major," he said with a sigh as he passed through the swinging door. Sometimes R&R barely seemed worth it.


	2. A Very Merry Unbirthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David Nolan and Graham Humbert were folding in on themselves under the weight. Graham didn’t joke and David didn’t smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt: Father Hopper wishes he could do more for the surgeons.

Archie liked helping people. He had his own tent, in deference of his position, and though there was a cot to sleep on most of the space was given over to two cots he’d made into couches of sorts and a table made of scrapped wood. He served tea when people came to see him, and cookies that Ruby - Corporal Lucas - baked for him every few days as long as the supply lines were clear. He listened, most of the time, and talked when it was needed. Most of the time, he hoped, people left feeling better.

There were five people in camp that never sought him out. Colonel Gold was one, but they played chess together at least one evening a week, a time when they were not officers of different rank or minister and parishioner, but simply two men talking. It was not confession but Archie would never reveal the things that were said to him on those nights; Gold’s trust was a rare and precious thing. Major Mills and Major Glass never sought him out, but Mills was so self-assured and Glass was so… Glass that it was hard to spend too much time worrying about them.

He worried about Captains Nolan and Humbert.

He knew about the still in their tent of course. He worried, but had never condemned it because he understood their need to escape this war after spending twenty hours with their hands in the shredded guts of boys that should be at home going to the drive-in, not facing the guns of an enemy. He couldn’t help but feel that they needed something more, though.

It had been a tough month, the rainy season meaning that they spent as much time battling infection and disease as they did bullet wounds. A campaign to ‘reclaim’ lost ground meant that soldiers came to them in waves; sometimes they only stumbled to bed and slept for a few hours before the helicopters came again. The recovery wing was so full that they were having to send all but the most critical on to Seoul within a day of their surgeries.

David Nolan and Graham Humbert were folding in on themselves under the weight. Graham didn’t joke and David didn’t smile. If the two weren’t in surgery they were in their tent, sleeping or drinking. They hadn’t pranked Glass in weeks, something the Major was glad of but made everyone else worry. Archie knew that he had to be the one to step in and do something.

“Henry, do you think you can help me?” He came up with a plan, after some deliberation, and ran it past the Colonel. It was Gold who suggested he recruit Henry.

“Oh yeah!” the boy said with a grin. “This is going to be awesome. Can I ask Jefferson for help too? He’s good at this kind of thing.”

“Is he?” he wouldn’t have guessed that it was something Hatter would want to be included on, but then he was used to the man trying to get out, not become a part of a group. Maybe if he was included more he’d be less desperate to escape. “I think that’s a good idea Henry.”

It took three days, but between himself, Henry, Ruby and a surprisingly helpful Jefferson they were able to pull everything together. Henry was in charge of what he liked to call ‘the acquisition’ and made a big show of running into the doctors’ tent on Sunday afternoon. He’d been practicing his ‘oh shit someone’s in trouble’ face for days. “Gold’s looking for you.”

“Did you hear that, David? Gold’s gunning for you.” Graham pulled a pillow over his head.

“Obviously you weren’t listening, Captain. You’re in for it this time. Obviously he found out about the…”

“Actually he’s looking for both of you. He’s headed to the mess tent, and says you have five minutes to meet him, or else.” It was a common enough threat to sound right. People learned pretty quick not to ask what followed the ‘or else.’ It was never pleasant. Henry, feeling that they would know better than to ignore the summons, waited until the tent was out of sight before skipping.

Nolan and Humbert pushed their allotted five minutes to the edge, walking in having some odd conversation about being raised by wolves and and who was mom’s favorite. They didn’t seem to notice that the room was full of people until everyone shouted “Surprise!”

“What?” one or both of them asked.

“It’s an unbirthday party. Because Father Archie said we needed something to celebrate, but it’s not anyone’s birthday, so he thought we could do your guys’s unbirthday,” Henry explained in a rush of words. “What do you think? We have cake, even, and pin the star on the general. You get more points if you don’t get it on his jacket.”

“I think it sounds perfect, kid.” David was one of the few people that could get away with ruffling Henry’s hair.

“I think the Father is a very wise man.” Graham caught Archie’s eyes and gave him the slightest of nods. Archie knew a thank you when he saw it.

Later, when he stood in a corner watching the party he noticed how relaxed both men were, even though the punch was, so far as he knew, unspiked. It felt good.

“You went to a lot of work, Padre. Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?” Ruby joined him in the corner, offering him a glass of punch which meant he had to be right about the lack of alcohol. Gold was the only man in camp that ever offered him spirits.

“I am enjoying it.”

“Might enjoy it a little more with this.” She offered him a cookie too. He smiled, and tried not to think about how close she was standing or how good she smelled. When she was close by he could forget, for a minute, what war really smelled like.

“Thank you.” He settled back to watch some more, and grinned when Graham laughed and David cleared a space on the floor to dance with Nurse Blanchard.


	3. Whale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry has a new friend.

“It’s unsanitary, sir.” Regina had her arms crossed.

“Completely unsanitary,” Glass echoed. Gold sometimes thought that was all he was really good for, like those birds that lives on hippo’s backs and ate bugs, except Glass lived in Mills’ shadow and echoed.

“Is it sleeping in the bed with him?” It was bothersome to even ask, but there was no getting rid of Mills until they went through the process.

“It’s sleeping under his bed, Colonel. He’s letting the mutt near him when he eats as well. How is that any better?”

“It’s a dog, Major.” Honestly the idea of it made Gold feel better. Henry was a kid, living in a war, seeing dead and dying people. A pet might just give him a little time to be a normal kid.

“It’s a fleabag and a breeding ground for disease,” Mills insisted.

“It’s not even good enough to send to the closest restaurant as a meat supply.” For Glass it was an oddly original crack. Gold was not amused. Neither was Henry.

“No one is eating Whale.” He burst into the room, a fierce expression on his face. “He’s my friend.”

“Whale?” Glass looked confused. Or constipated. With him it was hard to tell.

“My dog. It’s his name.”

“Henry, I have a friend who works on training guard dogs for the MPs. I can get you a german sheppard. A good dog.” Regina’s features softened slightly in the boy’s presence. She genuinely cared about him, even if she went about it all wrong.

“I have a good dog and I’m not abandoning him.”

“Henry, you have things to do, I believe,” Gold commented.

“But...”

“Now, Private.” His tone was one that broke no arguments.

“Yes sir.” The shuffling of his feet was an almost silent protest.

“The two of you may leave as well.” He played with the papers on his desk, hoping they would get the message. 

“But the dog...” 

No such luck. “Henry has my permission to keep the dog, provided he washes him. You won’t say anything more about it to him.”

“But...”

“Now, Majors. Good day.”


	4. So Long as There is Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked up, to find Henry standing completely still. That wasn’t unusual; for a sixteen year old kid he could seem almost ancient sometimes. It was the expression on his face that had Ruby moving so fast that she knocked over her polish.

It was Henry, who came to the mess tent. Lunch was over and it wasn’t quite time to start on dinner yet, so Corporal Lucas was sprawled out on one of the benches. The mess tent was as much home to her as her sleeping tent, and less crowded when there wasn’t food being served. It also had better lighting, and at the moment she was applying the ‘blood red’ nail polish her Granny had sent in the box she’d received the day before.

When the door banged open she didn’t pay much attention; she had a table set up with snacks on it at all times, mostly because the doctors had such strange hours when there were surgeries to perform, so she figured someone needed something to nibble on. It wasn’t until the shadow fell across the table that she bothered to wonder who it was.

“Hey, I was trying to...” She looked up, to find Henry standing completely still. That wasn’t unusual; for a sixteen year old kid he could seem almost ancient sometimes. It was the expression on his face that had Ruby moving so fast that she knocked over her polish. She didn’t care that if covered the table and dripped onto the floor, or that her half finished manicure was ruined.

“Who?” she asked. Getting even that much past the apple sized lump in her throat was a challenge.

“Father Hopper. He was taking rations to the orphans. Maybe someone didn’t know it was an orphanage and made a mistake, but there was a plane that dropped a bomb.” Henry’s voice was monotone. Some might think that he didn’t care, but even in her shock Ruby understood that war had not made the boy immune to suffering, just better at postponing his reactions. Later someone would find him in some remote corner of the camp, crying into Whale’s fur.

“Is he...” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even let herself think it.

“He made it through surgery. Doctor Humbert said that there was no point in getting you while they were still operating, but that it might do him good to have someone sit by his bed. If you wanted.” Ruby, rather than bothering to answer, walked to the door of the mess tent and out into the sun. It seemed wrong, that in a country that was almost always too hot or too wet or too cold, this was a perfect spring day.

“He threw himself over a couple of kids when the bombs started falling. David had to fish shrapnel out of his lung, and the back of his legs are...” Hamburger meat, Nurse Mary Margaret might have said, to another nurse. But Ruby was, while not a civilian in terms of the Army, not part of the medical team. Besides, this was hardly the time to express concerns about his ability to walk, when today’s worry was his ability to continue to breathe. “He made it through surgery. That’s a good sign.”

“He’ll want to know about the kids, when he wakes up.” She trusted Mary Margaret, her closest friend in this place besides the man lying so still in the bed. She wasn’t quite sure when the Padre became the person in camp that mattered the most, but she knew that he was, and clung to the faint words of hope that are offered. She needed him to be alright.

“They’re fine. There’s minor lacerations and one little boy broke his arm when he dove into a ditch, but that’s the worse of it. The little ones that he was protecting don’t have anything more than bruises.” Mary Margaret nodded to the chair besides the bed. “I have to get to the helipad; we’ve been told to expect wounded any minute. It would help if you sat with him. Talked to him.”

“What do I say?” He was so pale, his hair the only color; she’d never realized before how much red there was in it.

“I think you’ll be able to find the right words.” Mary Margaret squeezed her hand before going to the door where Nurse Swan was waiting. When they left it was just Ruby and Father Hopper in the recovering tent. Ruby knew that there was someone in the next room, should there be a need for help, but that didn’t make her feel any less alone.

“This isn’t supposed to happen. You’re not a soldier, you’re a minister. You’re supposed to be safe, Archie.” It was the first time she’d said his name aloud. He was always Padre, when she spoke to him. Sometimes Father Hopper, when speaking to other people. But here, in this fragile moment of time she had nothing but raw honesty. In her thoughts and her heart he was simply Archie.

“You have to make it through this. You have to wake up.” She wrapped her hand around his, willing her strength and warmth into his frail body. She wasn’t going to leave his side, not as long as he needed her. Not as long as there was hope.


	5. Someone to Listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby doesn't want to leave Father Hopper's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And introducing Major Belle French as the oft-visiting psychiatrist.

Mary Margaret had said to talk, and Corporal Ruby Lucas had done just that. She talked until her throat was sore, then drank the tea that someone had brought and talked some more. She talked until she didn’t know what to say, and was grateful when henry brought her a pile of books to read. She didn’t remember anything she read, but it made the words come easier.

“You need to sleep,” Nurse Swan told her at least once an hour. Ruby replied that Father Hopper was sleeping enough for both of them.

“You have a job to do. Food doesn’t cook itself,” Major Glass had dared to comment, when none of the other doctors or nurses were around. Ruby had suggested, politely, that if he was that worried about food she would draw him a map to the kitchen, and if he didn’t leave her alone she would shove that map into a place it would take surgery to extract.

She barely noticed the nurses that came to change the bandages. She only noticed Doctors Nolan and Humbert because they asked questions. She rarely had any new answers for them. Once, exhausted enough that she’d half fallen asleep in the chair she thought she’d opened her eyes to find Colonel Gold, standing at the foot of Archie’s bed, leaning on his cane with both hands. She’d probably imagined it.

“If you don’t get some sleep you’re going to collapse of exhaustion, and then you won’t be able to help anyone, sweetheart. Please, go take a nap before I have to report you to Gold.” Mary Margaret took the book from her hands, handed it to Swan, and waited with arms crossed. Ruby knew that look.

“You’ll come and get me if...”

“If there’s any change. We promise,” Emma supplied. “Now get out of here before you wind up a patient.”

“It’s still light outside,” she said with surprise when they walked out of the tent and she had to blink against the brightness.

“Not still, Rubes. Again. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since we got Father Hopper into recovery.” As if helping a child or a drunk, Mary Margaret looped an arm through Ruby’s and escorted her to her tent. Being that it was just after noon the tent was empty. “Sleep for at least a couple of hours, alright?”

“Just a couple.” She’d barely toed off her boots, which were not quite military issue but she wasn’t about to wear something that didn’t have a heel, before collapsing on her cot and falling asleep.

It was twilight when she woke up, the sounds from the mess tent next door telling her that someone had apparently figured out how to serve food. She couldn’t really find it in her to care if the rest of the camp was eating. Archie wasn’t. She didn’t care too either, but knew enough to understand that she couldn’t keep going without food. Fortunately when they had fruit she tended to hide away a few pieces, and was able to eat an apple on her way back to the recovery tent.

When she got there someone was sitting in her chair, holding Archie’s hand and talking to him in a low voice. “Major French?”

“I heard about Father Hopper. I was over at the 8063rd and thought I’d come see if there was anything I could do. He’s such a good listener, I thought I might lend an ear to anyone that needed it in the short term, until he’s back at his post.” When she stood Ruby was struck by how small she was. Even in bare feet the Major would have been six inches shorter than she was; in her boots it was at least eight. The army green should have looked strange on such a petite woman but some inner calm she always seemed to carry made it work. It helped, too, that the psychiatrist was the only person that Ruby had ever seen yell at Colonel Gold and walk away unscathed; her claws were hidden, but only just beneath the surface.

“Henry could probably use someone. He’s pretty upset.”

“He’s at dinner with Mary Margaret and Emma. Between them they’ll get him to talk. Who are you talking to, Corporal?” She gestured at the chair, and waited until Ruby was seated before taking her own seat on the edge of the next bed. Idly she flipped through Hopper’s medical chart; Ruby sometimes forgot that she was still an MD, even if she treated mental rather than overtly physical problems most of the time.

“To him.” Archie’s hand was still warm. She hoped it was his warmth, and not leftover from Major French.

“Maybe I should ask, then, who is listening to you?” French slipped off her hat, letting the riot of brunette curls that had been tucked inside fall about her shoulders.

“I don’t need anything.” Other than for Archie to be alright, and the Major couldn't do anything about that.

“I know Father Hopper means a lot to the people of this camp. Just from my jeep to the tent I heard everything from concern to threats to blow up all of North korea on his behalf.”

“I’d set the whole place on fire, if I could.” An orphanage. They’d bombed an orphanage for no reason, and now Archie was the one paying the price.

“I don’t think that’s what Father Hopper would want,” Belle French said softly.

“They _hurt_ him.” For the first time her worry gave way to pure rage. If there had been an enemy soldier in the room shoe might have blindly attacked. This whole war was hell, and people like the Padre shouldn’t be stuck here. He was too good for this place.

“They did, and I’m angry at them too. The doctors are angry and the nurses are angry. Everyone is angry except one person, at that’s Father Hopper.” For just a moment there was a flash in the other woman’s eyes; Ruby could see the anger. But then it was as tucked away as her hair had been, a minute ago. 

“He can’t be angry; he’s in a coma. Because of them he might never...” She wanted to lash out, rather than say it, but the only things in striking distance were Archie, the medical equipment being used to try and save him, and Major French. “...never wake up.”

“I don’t believe that. I think he will, and when he does he’s going to say that he’s glad that the children are safe. He’s going to worry about the person at his side looking so pale. But he’s not going to hate anyone because he doesn’t hate. I have never, ever heard him say one word about hate, unless it’s to say that hate should be rejected because it blocks out the ability to love. He told me, once that love is the most precious gift a person could give, or receive.” Ruby found, when Major French stopped talking, that she was simply watching and waiting. She had the most startling clear eyes that Ruby had seen; she felt like they were looking right into her.

“He’s my friend,” she said. Only when the words fell from her tongue did she hear how defensive they sounded. He was her friend, but he was more than that. Love. She loved Father Archie Hopper. “Oh god.”

“It’s not easy, is it? Loving someone, and not being able to tell them.” French’s voice was soft with sympathy. No, Ruby realized as she looked down at the face of the still sleeping Padre. Not sympathy. Empathy.

“You?”

There was just the slightest of nods, as Major French stood up. “I’ll be around, if you need to talk again, alright? I’m staying in the VIP tent.”

“Thank you.” Ruby watched her go before turning back to Archie. She caressed his cheek, her gaze flicking down to him mouth. If this was a fairytale she could kiss him, and he’d wake up. But he wasn’t a prince and she sure as hell wasn’t a princess. Love was far more complicated than it was in books, but maybe that meant it was worth more. Maybe, when he woke up, she’d be brave enough to find out.


	6. Voting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It’s my duty as a US citizen to vote, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy voting day, darlings

“Problem, Henry?” Gold was crossing the courtyard to the mess tent, in need of his third cup of coffee, when he noticed Henry staring at a bag of mail.

“I don’t know, Colonel.” The boy looked up, and had to use his hand to push the hair out of his eyes. He’d arrived with a customary military buzz cut, but since then it had grown out. it suited him more this way, but he was going to have to see about getting a trim, soon.

“Meaning?” There didn’t seem to be anything overtly wrong with the mail bag. it was, perhaps, fuller than usual, but the American election was coming up in a few weeks and everyone was encouraged to get their absentee ballots in early.

“Meaning that if this is the mail that I collected today, what’s that?” The boy pointed to the bag in the back of the jeep, an almost identical bag to the one he’d been staring at. “We don’t have two bags of mail until after Thanksgiving, when everyone starts sending presents home.”

“You didn’t put it there, of course.” He didn’t bother waiting for a reply. Henry was a clever lad, and never a forgetful one. If there was a bag of mail in the back without enough mail in camp to fill it, then it had to be filled with something else. Gold had his suspicions and tested them out with a hard poke of his cane.

“Ow,” yelped the bag. Or the man in the bag, rather.

“Out, Jefferson. Now,” Gold ordered. When Jefferson complied, or at least stuck his head out, there was a neat row of stamps across his forehead and his typical ‘shit, caught again’ smile on his face.

“Sorry, Colonel, I can’t. I have things to do.” Jefferson shrugged, his shoulders briefly rising out of the bag.

“One of these days you really are going to escape, and I won’t be able to protect you from a court-martial.” Gold’s expression was part genuine concern and part exasperation.

“It’s my duty as a US citizen to vote, sir. That’s all I’m trying to do. I’ll be back right after the election. I’ll even bring you back a souvenir.” He ducked his head back into the bag. Gold reached in after him and yanked on his ear. “Ow.”

“You have sixty seconds to get out of the jeep, Corporal Hatter, before I send for the MPs.” He had to give the man points for creativity though, not that he would ever say such a thing out loud. This was a much better attempt than last week’s stray cat costume.

“How can I call myself an American if I don’t show up at my polling place to vote?” Jefferson’s eyebrow raised, making one of the stamps peel away and fall onto the lapel of his uniform.

“Henry, would you please fetch the...”

“This is very unpatriotic.” Jefferson stood, towering over the both of them for a moment before jumping over the jeep hatch and onto the ground.

“Thank you, dearie. Henry, if you’ll take him to the office I do believe he’s in need of an absentee ballot. Every vote counts, after all.” And one of these days the man might be elected that was able to stop wars, instead of start them. “I’ll take care of loading the mail.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Henry hadn’t stopped grinning since Gold had poked the bag. Gold had his suspicions that the boy was a sometimes willing accomplice in Hatter’s schemes. As long as they didn’t get into too much trouble and stayed in the camp he didn’t mind; it was as close to a playmate as the sixteen year old boy was likely to get, and he needed a little fun in his life. They all did, but the boy was his special concern.

“Have him help lick any envelopes or stamps that need licking, while he’s there as well.” Obviously the man didn’t have enough to do, if he was already scheming at ten a.m.

Gold leaned his cane against the back of the jeep to better lift up the mail bag and set it where it belonged. he picked it up again when he was ready to head for the mess tent for his coffee. Trying to mail himself; Major French was going to love this story when she next came for a visit. She always enjoyed tales of Corporal Hatter’s antics. Perhaps instead of waiting he’d write to her. No matter where she was working he was sure she could use a laugh.


	7. Coffeebreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behind the often fierce facade, Gold was a man who genuinely cared about the people serving in his command.

The VIP tent had most of the comforts of home, as long as you thought of ‘home’ as being somewhere in Korea to rest your head on a hard pillow and get eaten alive by bugs, not an actual home. What it didn’t have, though, was coffee. Since she was running on thirty something hours without sleep, coffee was a vital thing and enough to drive her from the tent and across the courtyard. The mess tent was empty, and a disaster owing to the fact the Ruby Lucas was otherwise occupied, but at least someone was keeping up with the coffee making. Coffee, of course, being a generous term for the black sludge that came out of the spout of the large silver urn.

“Sugar,” she muttered to herself. Milk too, even if she wasn’t likely to find anything that wasn’t powdered.

“Good luck finding it. There is, I assume, some in the kitchen but if there’s a system to where things go I can’t untangle it.” Belle French almost dropped her mug at the sound of the voice behind her. She managed to keep it from falling, but a few drops sloshed onto her hand. 

“Colonel Gold.” She hadn’t seen him since her arrival just a few hours ago. She would have run into him eventually, but the random encounter so soon after her veiled confession to Ruby startled her. That, or she needed sleep more than she realized.

“Henry mentioned that you’d arrived. How is Corporal Lucas?” Behind the often fierce facade, Gold was a man who genuinely cared about the people serving in his command. it was one of the things Belle most loved about him. He’d yelled at Jefferson Hatter more times than she could count, but she’d also seen him on the man’s worst day, reassuring him that the war would end and he would see his daughter again. And she’d remember him; children always knew their fathers, Gold had promised the distraught man.

“Exhausted, and bottling far more than is good for her. I’d like to stay for a few days, both for her and the rest of the camp. They’re having a tough time of it, from the few people I’ve talked to.” There were a dozen already, in the last few hours, who had asked if she might have a little time to talk. 

“Hopper is a good man. He’s also the de facto therapist, most of the time, so it’s a double blow. Your help would be appreciated.” Gold helped himself to a cup of coffee, grimacing as he took a sip without adding anything. ”This is disgusting, even more so than usual.”

“Back home there’s this little diner, a short walk from my office. It’s one of those hole in the wall places, but they had the best coffee. And burgers. I miss burgers.”

“That sounds perfect.” He looked at his coffee, and set the cup down. ”I can’t do anything about the burger, but I have some tea in my tent if you’re care for something a little more palatable?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind sharing? That’s worth it’s weight in gold, if you don’t mind a bad pun.” Belle laughed, feeling suddenly more awake than the coffee would have made her.

“I think I can spare half a pot, as long as it’s our secret.”

Belle covered her lips with two fingers. ”My lips are sealed.”


	8. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ghost was saluting her. She’d forgotten the significance of the day, and had to do a doubletake when he stepped out of the guard shack.
> 
> “Welcome back to the 6828th, Major, and Happy Halloween,” the ghost said once he’d lowered his hand.

A ghost was saluting her. She’d forgotten the significance of the day, and had to do a doubletake when he stepped out of the guard shack.

“Welcome back to the 6828th, Major, and Happy Halloween,” the ghost said once he’d lowered his hand.

“Happy Halloween as well.” The voice was muffled, and without any other cues it was impossible to guess who was under the sheet. Belle simply saluted back and drove to the middle of the compound. Halloween. In another life she would be home, passing out candy to innocent children, walking safely in the darkness. If she’d remembered she would have at least brought something for Henry.

“I’ll take the jeep to the motor pool for you.” She’d barely pulled up outside the commander’s office when Jefferson was at the door, opening it with one hand and holding the skirt of his dress up with the other.

“Thank you.” She couldn’t help smiling at the man who wore not only a ball gown reminiscent of the Deep South but a bonnet and heels as well. “You certainly got into the spirit of the holiday.”

“In your honor, Major. A Southern belle.” He made a grand curtsy, and pulled it off better than she could have. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a reason to wear a dress, let alone heels.

“Jefferson say last day of October is big celebration. Everyone dress fancy.” Alice, always tiny, looked even smaller in a borrowed Army uniform. “Jefferson make me six star General.”

“You look perfect, Alice. I’m glad Jefferson is sharing some of his traditions with you.”

“She’s sharing with me as well.” Belle looked at the man just in time to see a flash of something in his eyes. She’d been pleased to see the special friendship blossoming between the soldier and the civilian; it had centered and calmed some of the anger that always seemed brewing just under the surface with Jefferson. This was the first time, though, that she suspected more than friendship was blooming.

“Careful, it turns into a pumpkin at 9 pm,” she said as she handed over the keys; they didn’t need her interference or permission, for whatever was happening, and the less said was probably the better.

“I thought it was supposed to be midnight.” Jefferson held open the door for Alice, so she could ride with him.

“It’s the Army; there’s a curfew.” She watched as they drove away, before heading for the command tent. From the corner or her eye she caught a glimpse of Ruby, sitting on a bench, wearing a bright red cloak. The Padre in his wheelchair was next to her, not in costume but there were flames painted on the chair like a race car. She would talk with them later, and find out how Archie’s therapy was going. For now it was a nice day and they seemed relaxed; no reason to bring up anything serious.

“Howdy, Major.” In the outer office, Henry’s domain, the boy sat at his desk. A cowboy hat was hanging from his chair, abandoned at some point probably because of the impractical size, but he wore a plaid shirt and a vest with a star shaped badge. In the corner Whale was curled up, a miniature saddle strapped to his back. Once again she wished for a piece of candy, or any treat to give the boy who should be on the opposite side of the world from a war.

“Happy Halloween, Henry.”

“The Colonel's been waiting for you. Asks me every half hour if you’re here yet. Bad roads?” For all that he looked like a boy headed for a party, he spoke as someone far older. And he smiled, as always. Rarely did she see him without a smile.

“Patient with a bad night. I got a later start than I meant to.” A soldier who couldn’t manage more than a few hours sleep without nightmares, and had come close more than once to taking a permanent solution. She’d spent the wee hours of the morning, talking with him, learning of the wife waiting for him at home and reminding him of her grief if anything were to happen. “Is anyone with him now?”

“Nah. Major Glass was, but that lasted about a minute. He was complaining about the games.”

“Games?” she asked curiously.

“Captains Nolan and Humbert have taken over the mess hall. They couldn’t find any pumpkins to carve so they had to get a bit creative.” There was a twinkle in his eye. Belle could imagine just where he’d be heading, once his work was done. She made a mental note to check it out later.

“Why don’t you go look into that, Henry. You can report back to me in an hour.” The inner door swung out, and Gold stood there, looking the same as he did every day.

“An hour?” Henry asked, excitedly.

“Or sometime before midnight. Just don’t lose any glass slippers; the requisition form is a pain to fill out.” He smirked as the boy all but ran from the tent, followed by his dog. “Oh to be young and have that much energy.”

“I think I vaguely remember it.” She followed him back into his office, and took the chair closest to the desk.

“They’re working you too hard.” Before sitting Gold went over to the glass cabinet in the corner and took out a bottle of whiskey, carefully balancing two glasses and the bottle in one hand. He poured two generous drinks without asking. She took hers when it was offered, and washed the dust caught in her throat away with alcohol. It was a more pleasant burn.

“They’re working us all too hard, expecting us to fix the minds and bodies of these kids as if they’re toy soldiers.” Five aid stations in the last three weeks, and not a solid night’s sleep in that time. She was tired, which was why she’d come without being called. The 6828 was the closest to a restful place she knew, in Korea. A lot of it had to do with the man sitting across from her. She alternated between butterflies in her stomach and a contentment that was rare, when she was with him. “I almost lost one, last night. Twenty years old and he wasn’t sure he could face another day of this.”

“He was lucky you were there.” Gold frowned as he took a long sip. “That’s why you were late?”

“Yeah.” She still worried about him, but she couldn’t sit and hold his hand, or the hundreds of others like him. She practiced meatball psychiatry, just like the meatball surgery performed here in the OR, when time was of the essence and the waiting line for each table was five men deep.

“You should finish your drink and call it a night; the VIP tent is ready for you.” He looked worried, and that wasn’t at all what she’d intended. Belle took a calming breath and managed a little smile.

“Actually, despite my lack of costume I think I’d like to see what’s going on in the mess tent. It’s been ages since I’ve been to a party with games.” Nolan and Humbert were, in addition to being brilliant surgeons, amusing in their creative ways to destress. She could use a little of that right now. So could Gold. “Come with me?”

“Paperwork.” He wrinkled his nose as he looked at the pile on his desk. “Damned Army wants everything in triplicate.”

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” She reached across the table, tired enough and in need of human touch, not worrying about regulations as she touched his hand. It was warm, the muscles and tendons well defined under the skin. A surgeon’s hands; they were magic, giving life back to boys who came too close to losing it. “Please?”

“Maybe for a little while.” He didn’t move his hand. For a moment he barely dared to breathe.

Belle felt the frustration of the day melt away, at peace except for the faint stirring of butterflies in her stomach. “Good.”


	9. Triage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not a couple of hours. You need to get here as soon as you can.” Even through the crackles of the poorly strung line he could hear the stress in her voice.

“Colonel.” Henry ran into the office so fast that the swinging door hit the file cabinet and bounced back, almost hitting the boy on its return. “It’s the 4077 on the line for you.”

“Tell Radar if it’s about the cockroach race we’re not participating this year. They cheat.” He took the boy’s hurry for enthusiasm; things always got interesting when the 4077 had a reason to call. Potter’s group was, if possible, more eccentric than his own camp. “If he’s calling to remind me about the poker championship on the tenth tell him I remember, and that Winchester better wire home for more money if he plans on opening his mouth.”

“It’s not that, sir. It’s Major French calling.” Gold blinked, and took a closer look at the boy. What he’d thought was excitement was, on closer inspection, agitation.

“French?” He couldn’t imagine what she was calling about that made Henry so nervous.

“She said it’s really important.” Henry didn’t wait, but was halfway out the door now that the message was delivered. It took Gold a moment to collect his cane and follow. Henry was next to the desk, waiting for him. “Would you rather I waited outside?”

“There’s no reason, son. It’s not like anything’s secret in this place.” Henry knew something about secrets, though; he had managed to keep one for almost a year, before they’d gotten proof of his age and the fact that it was a number less than eighteen. Gold picked up the receiver. “Missing my voice, dearie?”

“Lew, you have to get over here.” The line crackled, and though he made out her words the tone was difficult to guess at.

“Glass and Mills are on R&R.” A coincidence, they’d said, that they happened to be gone at the same time. Regina, of course, was a cool customer but Sidney was as transparent as his name. Still, it suited him to have them both gone for a few days. The whole camp could breath easier. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to me to…”

“Not a couple of hours. You need to get here as soon as you can.” Even through the crackles of the poorly strung line he could hear the stress in her voice.

“Are you hurt?” It was a knife to his gut, the idea of her being among the wounded. He knew that she sometimes went to the front line with patients, and hated the idea.

“I’m fine. I just need you to trust me, alright. Get here soon?” There was a pop and a fizz, and the line went dead, leaving him with a host of unanswered questions.

“Colonel?” Henry asked nervously.

“I need you to find Nolan and send him to my tent. Tell him it’s not a joke and he has three minutes to get there, or else.” He had a bag to pack. “Then find Jefferson and tell him to get a jeep gassed and have it in front of my tent in ten minutes. A minute later and he’s wearing nothing but his regulation uniform for a month.”

“Yes sir.” Henry ran, almost tripping over Whale in the process. Gold took one look at his office door, decided that there wasn’t anything there that couldn’t wait, and headed for his quarters.

II

He left Nolan in charge of the camp which was, he told himself, less frightening than it sounded. Despite the jokes he and Humbert played and the amount of alcohol they drank when not on call, Nolan was a good man. Far better than Glass, that was certain. Blanchard and Swan would keep an eye on them as well. And Henry, well Gold was pretty certain the kid could run the office on his own better than if Gold was sitting at his desk.

It should have been a two hour drive, from the 6828th to the 4077th. Gold made it in just over an hour and a half.

“Can I water your pony for you, sir?” asked the man who could, perhaps, give Jefferson a run for his money. In fact, considering the hat the man was wearing they could have a nice tea party together.

“You can set fire to the damn thing, for all I care. Where’s Major French?” he demanded.

“With Colonel Potter in his office, Colonel. Shall I…”

“Do something with the damn jeep,” Gold snapped. It had been an hour and forty minutes of not knowing what was wrong and imagining the worst. “I know the way.”

“Yes, sir.” The man saluted, but Gold was already on his way to the command tent that was virtually identical to his own. 

“Sherman.” He acknowledged the man because it had been drilled into him to seek out the highest in command first. Under other circumstances he might had exchanged pleasantries; Potter was a good man and a decent conversationalist.

“I’ll let you have the office, Major, and tell Pierce you’ll coming shortly.” Potter seemed to sense his mood, speaking only to Belle. Gold barely noticed what he said. “Very shortly.”

Belle waited only until the door stopped swinging between the inner office and the outer. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to sit down?”

“No.” Her presence was usually a calming one. Lately he’d even taken to calling her for mostly made up reasons, just for a few minutes of her voice. Today, though, his hand hurt from how tightly he was holding onto his cane, and if he didn’t learn what the emergency was he was going to start smashing things.

“I didn’t think so.” Her eyes were clouded with worry. It was an expression that was all too familiar; she poured her heart and soul into caring for the boys that were as damaged mentally as they were physically by the ravages of war. “I was here today when the helicopters arrived. They needed all hands, so I scrubbed in. A village a few miles from here had been hit; there weren’t any soldiers, but a group of Americans volunteers were there, teaching the villagers new agriculture techniques. They were from IVS.”

“He’s in Cambodia.” He’d had a letter, just two weeks ago. 

“I was helping with the triage. I saw his ID.” It was only when he looked down that he realized that her hand was on his arm. “I’m not going to tell you the details now, because I know you’re not making sense of any of this. He made it through the surgery, and that’s what’s important.”

“There has to be a mistake.” As short as his nails were, he still managed to dig them into the palm of his hand, the biting pain giving him something to focus on. He needed to get out of the damn tent, and preferably back to his camp. This was a waste of time.

“It’s not a mistake.” He shouldn’t have been surprised by the strength in her hands; she was a capable surgeon even if she did chose to spend most of her time on minds rather than bodies. It confused him, though, when she pried his hand open and covered the red marks on his palm with her fingers. “It’s Bae. He’s hurt, but he’s alive. I’m going to take you to him right now. We’ll figure out the rest later. Right now he needs you and you need to see him.”

She squeezed his left hand gently, and he began to believe.

His worst nightmare had come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IVS is International Voluntary Services, a nonprofit group that works in third world countries.


	10. Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you’re not coming to tell me the war is over you better go the hell away,” Gold grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit smutty.

“If you’re not coming to tell me the war is over you better go the hell away,” Gold grumbled when the knocking on his door didn’t cease. He swore as he limped over and opened the door, only to have Humbert fall onto his floor. The captain reeked of cheap alcohol.

“I’m dismantling your still myself and breaking each piece if you don’t have a good reason for this.” He used the tip of his cane to poke the man, not gently.

“We were drinking,” Humbert answered as he tried to sit up.

“I said a good reason. Try again.” After twelve hours of surgery he couldn’t blame the man his escape, except that it interfered with his own. Standing on his leg for half a day left him fit for little but a pain pill and sleep.

“There’s only three beds in The Castle,” the drunk man explained patiently, as if it made sense.

“I’m going back to bed. See yourself out.” ‘Castle’ was the ironic name Nolan and Humbert had assigned to their tent. They’d even made a turret where the chimney vented.

“Belle doesn’t have any place to sleep. She’s on my bunk now but that means I have no place to sleep. David hogs the covers and Glass whines.” 

“What about the Major?” He had to be hearing things wrong.

“She’s passed out on my bunk but that means…”

“Before that, Humbert. Why is she here?” According the the clock he’s been asleep for less then three hours. She hadn’t been in the camp before that.

“She plays a pretty good hand of poker, but you know that don’t you Colonel? We were playing, me and David and Mary Margaret and Emma. And Belle showed up. Seemed sort of disappointed when I said you were out of commission but she was planning on staying the night. I would have gotten David to help me get her to the VIP tent but he passed out. Which is good because before that he was talking about following Mary Margaret to her tent and I don’t think Mills would like that very much.”

“If you two have livers by the time this war is over it’ll be a miracle,” Gold commented as he helped Humbert to stand up. In deference to the cold he slipped on his robe.

“If this war is ever over it will be a miracle.” Graham’s travels back to the Castle weren’t exactly a straight line, but they got there eventually. In the middle of the space was a table, still littered with cards and chips, as well as the remains of snacks from the mess tent and mostly empty glasses of homemade alcohol. “See my problem?”

Gold would never call Belle French curled up on her side and sleeping a problem, but he nodded. “Help me get her up.”

“Lew?” She was halfway on her feet when she woke up enough to question what was happening.

“Just taking you to the VIP tent, Major.” She never used his name unless it was just the two of them; she must have had a fair amount to drink.

“Lew?” Humbert’s grin when he repeated the name would have gotten the man another thump with the cane if he hadn’t been on the other side of Belle.

“This is a drunken dream you won’t remember in the morning, Captain,” he suggested as they reached the VIP tent. “Now toddle off before someone else decides to rob you of your bed.”

“No danger. Goldilocks knows there’s nothing ‘just right’ about this place.” Thought there was a woman of golden locks he wouldn’t mind sharing his bed with, if not for the two roommates he already had.

“I don’t think Emma would like porridge for breakfast.” Belle looped both arms around his neck, making it hard to get the door open. “She might like a rocking chair though. She looked exhausted tonight, but keyed up, too. When’s the last time she had R and R?”

“You can worry about Swan in the morning. Now it’s time for bed.” If his feet weren’t aching he might not mind standing as they were a while longer, provided Jefferson didn’t make his rounds anytime soon.

“Wrong bed, Lew. Yours is over there.” She almost fell when she waved in the direction of his tent.

“You need sleep.” He managed to get the door open and not completely trip over their feet as he backed her into the tent.

“I’d rather have you.” She might have been drunk, but she seemed to unerringly find just the place on his neck and was connected directly to his groin when she licked it. But it was late and she was drunk and he had to be responsible for both of them.

“In the morning…”

“No.” She tugged his hair sharply; he wasn’t certain how she’d even managed to get her fingers so tangled up in his hair without his noticing. “You think I’m drunk.”

“You are drunk, sweetheart.” His scalp smarted but he didn’t care.

“And if we’d never done this, that might matter. You’re a good man.”

“I’m a bastard.” A well deserved title.

“You are a good man, and sometime the only times when this whole war isn’t a nightmare are when I’m with you. I need that tonight, Lew.” She tugged on his hair again, gentler this time, and licked the length of his exposed neck.

“Are you alright?” He held her face between his hands, and looked closely at the shadows in her eyes.

“I’m tired, and a little drunk. I needed a laugh, and Graham and David obliged. I need a reminder that some of us are surviving this war, and I’m hoping you’ll take care of that.” She turned her head to kiss his palm. He, in turn, kissed her cheek and helped her out of her clothes.


	11. Frogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle, Graham, and a Xenopus laevis

While Belle spent a great deal of time in the recovery tent it was rare to find her in the surgical ward unless they were short handed and her skills were needed. She was, by her own standards, a good surgeon. Not a great one, like Gold, David or Graham, but she could handle meatball surgery, as Pierce called it. Still, she preferred dissecting with words and emotions rather than knives.

As rare as it was for her to be in surgery is was rarer still to find her in the lab where their more rudimentary tests were run, the ones that needed immediate answers.

"Do you need help, Major?" Ten minutes was all she needed, but of course that much time alone was too much to ask for, even considering that most of the camp was watching a movie. She hadn’t been able to figure out a better time; perhaps the middle of the night but if someone had caught her then there’s be no good explanation.  
"Thank you, Captain Humbert, but no. I was just…" She was never good at lying. Usually she didn’t find that to be a fault, but now she had a syringe and a _Xenopus laevis_ in a jar and no way to explain what she was doing.

"Sometimes I find it easier to be in the company of animals too, but I have to say I’ve never spent much time with frogs. There was a wolf once, back home, that let me share the woods with him." Graham Humbert leaned comfortably against the lab table, one finger resting on the jar. "Your friend doesn’t look like he’s from around here. Or should I say she?"

"A friend sent her to me." She felt bad, even though the test wouldn’t kill the animal, but she had to know. Life altering decisions might have to be made very quickly, and she needed answers.

"Not a test that gets run very often in an Army hospital, especially considering that most of the patients are men," Graham commented after a moment of silence.

Belle felt her face flush red in a very un-Major like way. If it had been Major Glass or perhaps even Nolan she might have hoped they wouldn’t know what she was doing, but Graham was a small town GP. He treated both men and women. No doubt he’d ordered multiple pregnancy tests before, even if he hadn’t done the actual test itself. ”I won’t insult you by saying it’s for a friend, but I will ask you to keep this quiet for me, at least until tomorrow. If it’s positive I need to be the one to tell people.”

"I’ll keep quiet as long as you want me to, Major. It’s not my place to tell your secrets." He nodded at the syringe resting on a tray. "Have you done it already?"

Belle looked at the needle as if needing to remind herself, but looked up at him when she nodded. ”There’s nothing to do now but wait. Come morning she’ll either lay eggs or she won’t.”

"Do you know which you want?" It was such a simple question, and yet so complex. Belle sighed, but she knew Graham well enough to know that anything she said really was between them. She’d seen him often enough, listening to his patients. While he and David together could be wild, Graham on his own was quiet and gentle.

"We’re at war, and I have a job to do. A job I can’t do if I’m… pregnant." it was the first time she’d said it out loud.

"The war’s going to end someday. If that wasn’t a factor what would you want?" he prodded gently.

"It’s not something I can decide just for myself. There’s three people to consider, even if I ignore the US Army and my commitments. It’s about the baby…"

"And the Colonel," he supplied when she paused.

"We’ve never even talked about kids, except for his son. He’s already raised a child." She had faith that she and Lew had something more than a war time romance. If the damned war even ended they would prove it. But knowing Lew wanted to be with her was a far different thing to knowing if he would want to be a father again.

"Maybe no matter if there’s eggs in the morning or not the two of you should talk." For the first time he rested a hand on her shoulder. Graham was always so respectful of people’s space; she leaned into the touch to let him know she appreciated the support.

"Has it ever scared you, Captain, how much one single person can mean to you? If you were to lose them…"

"It has, but I think if a person matters that much then you have to trust them." The smile fell from his lips, though, his expression momentarily blank. Belle wondered what untold secret might weigh on him. "Either way, you can tell me tomorrow if that helps."

"Thank you, Graham. That means a lot." Belle thanked him with a squeeze of her hand in his. She took the frog with her when she left. It was a risk to keep it in the VIP tent, but a greater one to leave it in such a public place.

"I was about to send out a search party," Lew whispered when she slid onto the chair next to him after dropping off the frog. "That was a rather long toilet break."

"I hope you saved me some popcorn." In the dark it was safe enough to let her hand brush against his, even in such a public place. For just a moment she rested her other hand on her stomach. If she had a choice what would she learn in the morning? What would Lew want the answer to be, and if it was negative would she tell him? Should she?

The following morning there were no eggs in the jar with the frog. Belle wasn’t certain if she was relieved or heartbroken.


	12. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn’t care about the stars, not when they were so far away. When she was little her dad had told her that every star was an angel, watching over the people they loved. She’d stopped believing that long before she’d learned what war was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for talk of suicide

“To get all the women, of course,” David joked when the conversation made it’s way around to why they had started in their chosen profession. The poker game they’d been playing in the Castle had long since been abandoned. Only Graham still played with the cards, using them to build a tower and knocking it down.

“To help people. Everyone needs someone to talk to, and I like to listen.” Father Hopper was the one person at the table completely sober.

“I thought any adventure was better than being stuck in a small town,” Ruby sighed. “This was definitely the wrong lemur.”

“Major?” They’d gone around the table in a circle, as they had half a dozen times already in their half drunken game of answering questions. Favorite ice cream flavor and luxury item most missed had been easy.

“I’ve always liked couches. It was either psychiatrist or furniture salesperson,” she tried to tease. Her own head was swimming. “I need some air. I think I’ll call it a night and make my way to bed.”

She made it three steps before she heard the door bang shut for a second time, and the familiar tap tap of a can reassured her that it was Lew who followed.

“The only thing in that direction is the mine field. It’s not the most calming of evening walks.” The field was well marked, of course, and she wouldn’t have gone near it. But it was on the edge of camp and at least walking in that direction gave her some breathing space.

“You can see the stars better over here.” She didn’t care about the stars, not when they were so far away. When she was little her dad had told her that every star was an angel, watching over the people they loved. She’d stopped believing that long before she’d learned what war was.

“The sky is full of clouds, you can’t see the stars anywhere. There’ll be rain before morning.” It was dark enough at the edge of camp that Lew was more shadow than substance.

“I should go to bed. That’s where I meant to go, but my feet seem to bring me this way instead.” She was tired, but more than that she was weary.

“It upset you, that last question.”

“It’s my mother’s birthday next week.” No, that wasn’t right, and she always told Lew the truth unless patient confidentiality was an issue. “It would have been my mother’s birthday.”

“She died.” He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to; Lew understood her more than anyone she’d known before. Last week she’d gotten a letter from her dad, bemoaning the fact that Lee Fough had married and wouldn’t be waiting for her when she returned home. It would have been a comfortable life, he’d reminded her, married to man who owned all the mines in town. She could have had a life of leisure.

He’d never understood that she wanted more than marriage to a man she didn’t love or respect and a life that felt empty to her.

“Do you remember your mother?” She’d learned one that he’d spent most of his childhood in boarding schools, as his father had been a military man as well. His mother had died young.

“I remember that she smelled of lavender and loved to knit. Sometimes even now I smell lavender and think of her.” 

“My mother had these days when she couldn’t get out of bed. Her gray days, she called them. I would spend hours in her room, telling her stories, painting her nails, bringing her flowers. Anything to make her smile. She said I was the only one that could make her smile on days like that. Not even my dad could get a reaction from her.” She only had to close her eyes to me back in that room, the curtains drawn and the air thick with her mother’s perfume. It hadn’t occurred to her until she was grown just how feminine the room was. How little of her father was there. It was like she hadn’t existed in her mother’s world except as the man that brought her flowers and took care of her daughter. “I wanted to take care of her.”

“And heal her?” Lew asked softly.

“I guess you could say that she was my first patient, in a way. I didn’t know the word depression then, but I knew gray.” They were getting far enough from camp that it wasn’t safe to continue walking, not at night. She should turn around and head back, but she wasn’t ready. “Every time I lose a patient and have to write to their family I think of her. I know what they feel when they get that letter. The pain and helplessness.”

“What happened, Belle?” His hand found hers, holding it hard. Belle looked up to the stars that were hidden from view.

“I wasn’t enough. One day when I was at school…” She couldn’t cry, not when she’d shed so many tears already. “She’d hidden away enough pills. Dad was the one to find her. I didn’t know until hours later, because I’d gone home from school with my friend Suzy and dad didn’t want anyone else to tell me.”

“Sweetheart.” Lew’s arms wrapped around her, more solid and accepting than anything she knew. An anchor.

“I wanted to save other people from that moment. From losing their mothers and sons and children. From losing themselves.” She wasn’t sure, most the time, that she’d ever really known who her mother was. All she’d known was a shadow. “Every time I feel sad it scares me, Lew. I’m scared of being her.”

“You’re not anyone but yourself.” She wondered if she could take a breath, he held her so tight. She wondered if she cared.

“I come here, if I can. Everytime I write a letter I try to find a reason to come here.” This time he’s been twenty, the soldier who had left behind parents and a younger sister. He’d broken the glass in the pharmacy but they hadn’t found him for more than an hour. Two days ago he’d been alive, and now he wasn’t. Next week was her mother’s birthday but there was no reason to celebrate.

“Belle.” His lips against hers were barely a whisper, but he held her close. And when she was ready he led her back to the camp and held her all night. He could not heal her, not any more than she could heal every patient, but he supported her, and loved her. It mattered.


End file.
